


Number 9

by mkay_is_still_insane



Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dark Past, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional, Family Issues, Gen, Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 03:19:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18307127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mkay_is_still_insane/pseuds/mkay_is_still_insane
Summary: We all know what happened to the few children that Reginald Hargreeves bought at birth and brought up in the Umbrella Academy, but what happened to the other 36 children suddenly born on that day? The Monocle tried to buy Lorelei when she was born, but her mother refused and opted to raise the child on her own...but when Lorelei's abilities begin to manifest, her mother sees her as an abomination. Sold into a freak show, Lorelei grows up on her own, doing her best to control her powers alone until she finally escapes. She has one goal: get to the Umbrella Academy and get The Monocle to take her in like he wanted to all those years ago.But what she finds at the Academy is nothing like what she'd imagined, and she'll have to fight for her place among the powerful Hargreeves siblings to finally have a family, and to save the world that never saved her.





	1. Chapter 1

            “I don’t want to waste your time miss, so allow me to simply get to my reason for being here. I want _her_ ,” the strange man said, pointing to the small bundle of blankets in the woman’s arms, her newborn baby girl, “and I’m willing to pay whatever you ask to get her.”

            Shocked and confused, the woman took an involuntary step back, holding her child closer to her chest. “Pay? You want to buy my daughter off of me? Why?” Though the woman had not been pregnant that morning, she had given birth to a beautiful and healthy baby girl that afternoon, and while she had not expected the child she felt it was her maternal duty to protect her daughter all the same. After all, the woman had hoped and prayed for a child for many years, and it almost felt as though this was an answer to her prayers.

            “Come now,” the Englishman said, adjusting his monocle and taking a small step closer. “Are you really ready to have this child? She did come rather unexpectedly, and I assure you that, under my care, the girl would flourish and grow to be an extraordinary person. I am a wealthy man and I can more than provide for her. You needn’t ever worry for her again.”

            “Excuse me sir, but…you didn’t answer my question. Why would you want my child?”

            The strange man paused and took a deep breath in, pursing his lips as if annoyed at having to put so much effort into this task. “I cannot explain it to you,” he replied, barely containing his irritation as if speaking to an ignorant child. “I simply _must_ have the girl.”

            The woman stood a bit straighter then, setting her jaw and glaring at the man in determination. “The girl’s _name_ ,” she said, taking a firm step forward and making the man jump back in surprise, “is _Neria_. It means ‘angel of God,’ which is _exactly what this baby is to me!_ I have waited so long for the Lord to bless me with a child! I have endured the procedures, the appointments, the agencies, _I lost my husband_ , and now finally after years and years of pain and sorrow, God has rewarded me with this!” She thrust the bundle of blankets and warmth forward, and the man jumped back again. “This perfect baby girl! And I will not give her up like this, no matter what price you offer me.”

            The man was shocked but tried not to let it show too much. He straightened, smoothed down his already smooth waistcoat, and regained his composure in a regal fashion. “Very well then,” he conceded, “but know this: soon you will see what this child could have been, what she could have become, and you will come running to me, wishing beyond your wildest dreams that I had taken her and helped her to reach her full potential because you will know then that you cannot do it yourself. And when that time comes and you finally come to your senses, I will turn you away like common filth.” The man then turned and went on his way and the woman never heard from him again, deciding to raise the child on her own as she had always wanted. But unfortunately this is not where our story ends, because you see, that man…was Reginald Hargreeves. And that woman

            was my mother.


	2. Chapter 2

            For 8 years, my mother did exactly as she swore to do and raised me on her own, and for 8 years, she followed the story of the Umbrella Academy children, the chosen few that were sold to Reginald Hargreeves at birth like he wanted, in absolute horror.

            “ _This?_ ” she’d cry in disgust. “This is what that man wanted for you! To become one of these…these _monsters!_ These unnatural, ungodly beings! Well, not my daughter; not my Neria. My little girl,” she’d croon, patting me affectionately on the head, “is no monster.” But the children at school had different ideas about who I was.

            “Freak!” they shouted at me in the schoolyard, chasing me down until there was no where else to run and hide. “You’re just like those demons on tv! Their own mothers didn’t even want them because of how evil they are!” Wiping angry tears from the corners of my eyes, I stood taller. “You’re wrong,” I said firmly. “I’m not like them. I’m not evil. And my mother did want me; she loves me!”

            The leader of my tormenters, a tall boy named Miles, stepped closer to me until he was right in my face and shoved me hard to the ground. “Then your mother,” he spat, “is a _freak_ , just like you.” The crowd surrounded me, swallowing me whole, kicking dirt into my eyes and pushing me back down every time I managed to stand. Miles and his best friend Oliver egged the group on, leading the people like some sort of twisted revolution. The people in our small town were friendly on the outside, but vicious on the inside. Our community was ruled and policed by the church, and what we were taught at church was that demons walked among us. We were told that the 43 children born on October 1, 1989 were demons sent to destroy the earth; that they were in league with the devil and that their leader, The Monocle, Reginald Hargreeves, was some sort of Anti-Christ. Though the adults in town wouldn’t say it to my face, they talked loud enough for their children to hear and the consensus was reached: I was an abomination. My mother did everything in her power to convince them otherwise, but it was no use. “She doesn’t even have abilities like those other children!” she boasted,

            but she was wrong.

            The bell rang for us to come inside and the circle around me dissipated; all but Miles, of course. He towered over me, waiting for me to find the courage to get my legs under me again. Shakily, I managed to get to my feet and I stood my ground, looking him square in the eyes in a way that I hoped my fear wouldn’t show through. “You’re never going to be liked here. You’ll never have any friends. Because you are _never_ going to be anything more than an accident, a mistake, and _a demon_ ,” he hissed before turning his back on me and sauntering nonchalantly back to the entrance. I clenched my fists at my sides, grinding my teeth and glaring holes into the back of Miles’s head. _I wish you’d just forget,_ I thought _. I wish you’d forget I existed. Forget who I am. Forget_ what _I am. **Forget everything**. _

            I dusted myself off and trudged up to the door to get back to class, still glaring at the back of Miles’s head, when suddenly it happened. Everything in my life changed forever. Miles stopped dead in his tracks and I, afraid of being too close to him, did the same. Slowly, he turned his head back in my direction until we were making eye contact, neither of us saying a word. His expression gradually shifted from one of disgust to one of confusion and…was that fear?

            His hands flew to either side of his head, as if cradling it or…trying to keep something out. Or maybe keep something in. Then the screams began. Bloodcurdling, animalistic and horrifying screams of pain as Miles staggered to the ground and crumpled into a ball on the pavement before the doors of the school. Teachers flashed out into the courtyard, surrounding Miles like vultures to roadkill, each one frantically trying to help him up and calm him to no avail. His screams did not stop. They did not waver. They did not quiet.

            I could hardly breathe as the last of the available teachers closed in around him, blocking my view of what had once been the toughest and most intimidating boy in school, now cowering in what can only be described as pure unadulterated terror. My legs moved before my thoughts could catch up with me and I was bursting through to the middle of the crowd in the next instant. I shoved my way past the inner circle of panicking teachers and stepped into what seemed like an entirely different setting.

            The concrete beneath me was stained crimson. _Blood. Miles’s blood._ My eyes followed the flowing scarlet river to the boy’s skull, still cradled in his hands, which had gone completely white from the pressure he was putting on his head as if he were trying to keep it together with his bare hands. The closer I got, the louder the screams got until I was standing directly over him. Hands from all directions grabbed for me, trying to keep me away but I stooped to the ground, evading them all. Just as suddenly as they began, the cries of pain ceased. But the blood did not. I couldn’t see any open wound on his head where the blood could be coming from, but it poured from a perfect circle seemingly cut all the way around his skull, though no real cut could be seen. His hands, covered in his own blood, slowly came away from his head and the crowd was deadly silent. Miles flipped over to lay flat on his back and his eyes fluttered open, finding me first.

            He stared at me for what felt like centuries and I feared for a moment that he was dead. That I was kneeling before a corpse. “Mi…Miles?” I prompted. His pupils seemed to come back into focus and he searched my face in confusion.

            “Who are you?”

            All my breath left my body as if I’d just been punched in the gut. When I didn’t answer him, his eyes wandered to the silent and horrified crowd that had amassed around him. “Who are…who are any of you people?” he demanded. And just like that, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he was out again.

            When the ambulance arrived, the medics were baffled. They could find no scratch on him anywhere, much less where all of the blood could have come from. Miles reportedly didn’t wake up for another 4 days, and when he finally did wake up, he didn’t remember a single thing about his life. He couldn’t remember his own name or age. He couldn’t remember his family. He had no idea where he was. Naturally, the school was closed early the day of the incident, fearing for the students’ emotional well being after seeing such a “beloved” classmate rendered so helpless so unexpectedly. But I knew exactly what had happened, and when my mother came to me with her questions, I answered as honestly as I knew how.

            “Neria,” she pleaded breathlessly. “Please baby, just tell me what happened. Tell me what you saw.” I looked up into my terrified mother’s eyes with a steady gaze. “I told you what happened mama,” I answered, monotone and emotionless.

            “I happened.”


End file.
